


Tell Me

by HarmMarie



Series: Phoenix Files [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Mini Jack helps the helpless too, Snark, Spike helps the helpless, Sunnydale Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmMarie/pseuds/HarmMarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Go home kid, you don't want to know what that was." Brown eyes met blue in a challenging stare. "Tell me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sorry, what?

_"Tell me."_

Spike thought about what he'd read in those brown eyes, _old_ eyes and made his decision.

"Is there somewhere less…alley-like where we can have this conversation?"

Sharp eyes studied him before the boy nodded. "Yeah, we can head back to my place. It's not far."

Spike shrugged. Now… "Are you really going to let me in or are you just using this as an excuse to call the cops?"

"Yes, I'm going to let you in." Thinly veiled sarcasm gave way to slight suspicion. "Unless I really do need to call the cops."

"Yeah, I'd like to see you explain that one. 'You see officer, he saved me from getting eat—I mean mugged and then turned the mugger into dust.'"

The kid snorted. It seemed he had a sense of humor. More importantly, Spike had an invite. He wouldn't have to know that he was inviting a vampire into his home. That way, Spike wouldn't have to explain the difference between himself and other vampires. Not everyone saw the world in shades of grey.

The wind picked up as the two of them made their way, causing the kid to pull his jacket tighter around him. The early November air had a bite to it that Spike ignored. He wasn't really bothered by the cold, but shoved his hands into the duster's pockets anyway.

"What were you doing out this late anyway, kid?" He was curious, so sue him.

"Jack, not kid, and I needed some milk." He groused, and Spike remembered the milk spilled all over the entrance of the alley. "What were you doing out, besides saving my ass?" His gaze swept over to Spike before moving on. The kid was aware of his surroundings. He had handled the vamps in the alley well enough for an uninitiated bloke and Spike could not forget those hard brown eyes. _hmm._

"Just on my way home, actually." He pause, realizing it was the truth. "Name's Spike."

The kid just nodded and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

  


_"The world is older than you know. Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise…"_

  


"I'm sorry, what?" Jack was convinced that he hadn't heard that right. Maybe he was hearing things, something like…

"Demons are real."

Yup, that was it. Spike kept staring at him, like he expected him to jump up and scream or something. Hell, if Spike was telling the truth, finding out those men were vampires was not the weirdest thing Jack had heard, though it ranked right up there with "this is a wormhole to another planet", and "you're not the real Jack O'Neill."

The whole walk to the apartment, Jack tried to come up with every explanation that he could as to why those men's faces changed and how Spike (as he'd introduced himself) was able to disintegrate them with what looked like a simple piece of wood. He ran through every type of technology he'd seen and speculated on others. Somehow, demons and magic didn't make the list.

"This is the part where you deny everything, convince yourself that you were mugged and would swear in court that the men who mugged you ran off into the night." Spike drawled, slouching further into the almost comfy armchair Jack had bought at a garage sale.

"So, demons, magic, and all that stuff is real?" Jack wasn't sure why he was asking, except for the small part of him that believed what Spike had said. The part that invited him back to the apartment and stood in front of a huge ring of rippling blue and thought 'cool.' The rest of him needed convincing. A lot of convincing.

"Yeah."

"Why doesn't everyone know about this? I haven't seen one news story saying 'Man killed by mythical demon. Details at 10.' I mean, those…vampires? They weren't exactly subtle." Jack pointed out.

Spike rolled him eyes. "People rationalize what they can and forget what they can't. They convince themselves that it must have been a trick of the light or that they are remembering it wrong. People just don't want to believe what's out there. Those in my line of work call it _Sunnydale Syndrome._ "

"Why call it that?"

"There was a town in California called Sunnydale—"

"The one that was destroyed by an earthquake?" Jack interrupted.

Spike just raised an eyebrow. "You really think that it was that simple. That an earthquake could cause a whole town to disappear into a crater. A perfectly round crater?"

Jeeze. Anymore sarcasm and Spike would have it dripping out his ears. Okay, so Jack didn't think that it was an earthquake. He thought that it was some kind of alien technology, at first. But when the SGC couldn't find any evidence of technology then all that was left was the most likely explanation. Earthquake, caves, tremors scaring off locals. Poof, no more town. All perfectly normal.

Right.

It was times like this Jack wished he was old enough to drink.


	2. Like Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're taking this too well. You have to 'ave seen something strange before or know someone who has. 'Sides," Spike locked his eyes on the brown eyes in front of his, "you have old eyes."

Jack stared into the depths of his soda like it had all the answers. He seemed to be taking the news about the whole magic thing well enough. He didn't run from the room screaming at least, or go into some kind of stupor. Actually, after the initial shock he seemed to take the news almost too well, like he should have seen this coming. Maybe this wasn't his first supernatural encounter.

"You alright?" Spike asked, with perhaps a smidgen of genuine concern.

The kid startled, like he'd forgotten Spike was there, but nodded. "Yeah, I think so. It's kinda a lot to take in, you know?"

"You seem to be taking this well." He phrased it more like a question, then the accusation he was actually making. A nervous chuckle gave him all the conformation he needed. Spike carefully worded the next part.

"What have you seen?" It came out gently. Spike leaned forward in the armchair and braced his elbows on his knees. He tried not to appear too eager when Jack briefly froze before covering it with a 'disarming' smile. What the kid couldn't cover was his skyrocketing pulse.

"Seen? What do you mean?" It sounded like genuine confusion. The kid was good. Spike was better.

"You're taking this too well. You have to 'ave seen something strange before or know someone who has. 'Sides," Spike locked his eyes on the brown eyes in front of his, "you have old eyes."

He leaned back again and let the kid war with himself.

  


_"We think the Asgard took the real you and made a copy..."_

  


"It was like magic." Didn't Carter always say that any advanced technology would appear to be magic to those less advanced?

Spike seemed considering. "So you just woke up one morning and you were a teenager again?" He summarized. "No idea how?"

Asgard cloning technology. Asgard beaming technology. "Nope. No idea." No idea how any of that stuff works.

"So what happened then?"

Jack decided to stick as close to the truth as possible without revealing any classified information. _Anymore_ classified information. As it was, he could be locked away in a small dark room if he was caught talking about this stuff. Maybe they would give him Harry's old room.

"I freaked. Tried to enter the military base where I was stationed and was caught. Managed to sneak my way out and went fishing."

Spike stared, then dryly remarked, "You broke out of a military base and went fishing."

"Yup." The word oozed with false enthusiasm. He continued in a normal tone of voice. "Found out later that the real—" he almost choked on the word, "the real me showed up a couple days later with no idea what happened. So I stayed away. They probably just wrote me off as a thief for taking the colonel's ID."

"And all this?" Spike waved a hand around to indicate the apartment.

"I know a guy." Jack answered mysteriously. It got him a raised eyebrow. Not as good as Teal'c, but passable.

"I'm a former black ops colonel. I have connections. And connections don't look all that close when you wave enough money in their face."

Spike was silent for a long time. "So, how old are you anyway?"

Jack could read the other man enough to know it was his way of accepting what he'd been told.

"It all depends on what you're asking. I have existed like this for six months, I am legally 15 years old, and I turned 51 last month." Jack stated matter-of-factly.

Spike snorted. "You're still just a kid."

"Okay, you were listening before, right? I'm 50 years old. Stop calling me kid." Jack was annoyed. This guy wasn't listening to a damn word he said.

"Oi, respect you're elders. You may be 50 but I still have at least a hundred years on you."

"What?!"

This was going to be a hell of a night. One thing was for sure, Jack was totally calling in to school sick tomorrow.


	3. Bonus: Now Hiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's called...well, Angel Investigations, but I'm working on it.”
> 
> “Are you hiring?”

Wesley stared at them with a disturbingly blank face over the webcam while Spike desperately wished for a cigarette. Jack shifted his feet in an attempt not to fidget. 

“Let me get this straight. You,” He pointed to Jack, “are a six month old teenager who was somehow magically cloned from a 50 year old Air Force colonel and you,” The finger moved to Spike, “basically kidnapped him so that he can work with you.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Here to fight the good fight and all.”

“How exactly did this come about?” 

“Well, it happened on my way home...”

_”Just go home, kid. You don't want to know what that was."_

“And you were perfectly willing to leave town with a strange vampire you just met hours before?” Somehow Wesley made it sound like a reasonable statement rather than the incredulous comment it should have been.

“Done weirder.” Jack shrugged. “I'm a good judge of character.”

_“I can save these people. Help me!”_

And that was it. Jack found himself packing up his belongings and hitting the road. He left a note, of course. Wouldn't due to waste government resources looking for him and all. They were headed for California. Spike's boss worked in LA, along with some friends, who would hopefully be helping him with his new identity.


End file.
